Hunter and Huntress
by SilyaBeeodess
Summary: (Sequal to Hunter and Prey, takes place in the novel, "The Mandalorian Armor") Years after their part of ways, Bossk finds himself reunited with Tyra, a Rigossan girl. Yet again, their worlds collide, only this time Tyra has joined the hunters. Will a share of secrets, pasts, and debts force them into another partnership, or even make them grow closer than before?
1. Chapter 1

Bossk's clawed hand throbbed painfully after he punched the durasteel wall in his anger. It had only been moments ago when he had learned of Boba Fett's joining of the Bounty Hunter's Guild… and it drove him insane with rage. Was his father _that_ much of an idiot? Was it not clear enough that this was just another one of that sleemo's dirty tricks?

Over the course of years, their rivalry had grown- his and Fett's. For too long now Bossk had been fighting for the title of number one bounty hunter with him. And now, with Boba Fett surrounded by enemies and his life resting on a sliver of trust based on mutual goals, with that man right within reach, he couldn't be touched; the Hunter's Creed protected him from being harmed by another member of the Guild.

He punched the wall again, issuing a low, threatening growl.

"Bossk," a voiced addressed.

Quickly spinning around, the young Trandoshan faced his sire, Cradossk, with a snarl. Still wearing the ceremonial robes covered in wine stains from the banquet, the head of the Bounty Hunter's Guild approached him, followed by another.

"What do you want, old man?" Bossk questioned with an edge of barely concealed hate in his tone.

Cradossk's claws twitched, and then curled into a tight fist before unclenching again. For a moment, it seemed as if they would fight. Neither was pleased with the other that night- as if they ever were. Instead of raising a hand, however, Cradossk kept his voice low and menacing, and said, "Since you were gone on your _failed _mission, I never had the time to introduce you to another one of our newest members of the Guild. You wouldn't know her; she came here a day after you left."

"Forget it. I know where this is going," Bossk interrupted, his eyes narrowing to slits, "And I'm not babysitting another fool." Cradossk had already forced some pathetic excuse for a bounty hunter named Zuckuss onto him- just on that last mission in fact. The Gand had whined the entire time and had irritated him to no end.

"Too bad," Cradossk replied, "because this one actually _requested _to be paired with you. Only the Scorekeeper knows why…"

"Oh yeah," he turned his suspicous gaze to the female standing behind his father, "Why me?"

The female said nothing- just cocked her head slightly to one side and stared back at him. Frankly, it was more like she was staring straight _through_ him. The thought made him shiver a bit. He didn't know if it was paranoia that made him think that or not though, because he couldn't even see her eyes. The mask-like helmet she wore seemed like it was her actual face. _If _you could call it a face. Nothing- not a single feature- showed any sign of a nose, mouth, or eyes. The visor even blended in with the rest of the helmet; it was a blank, expressionless slate of solid, metallic black. The body suit and plated armor the female wore was made of the same material. Her hands were covered with thick gloves and her boots were in near perfect condition, as if she hardly walked in them at all.

Something that bothered Bossk was that he couldn't get a scent on the girl besides a sterile smell of cleansers and sanitizers. Trandoshans relied on their sense of smell just as much as sight. A person's scent could give away so much about them- where they last came from, what species they were from, even what their personalities may be like. But with this girl… nothing; no molecule of air gave anything away about her and that worried him.

There was no obvious way to identify who or what she was. The only way that he could even tell she was a female was due to the clear bulge of her bosoms underneath the armor.

Silent, deadly, cold- her presence spoke all that and more. Her appearance made her seem as if she was some creature out of a story told to younglings in order to scare them into behaving. Even in the lights of the halls, she stood as a solid silhouette to the world; a figure of darkness taking light in and trapping it away forever.

"She doesn't talk much," Cradossk answered for her. "She hasn't even given _me _a name for her to go by. But apparently in the Outer Rim, the few people who know of her call her Shadow."

_Well that fits, _Bossk thought as he gave the girl another look up and down.

The older Trandoshan continued, "I didn't know of her existence for a while myself and from what I've gathered, she's been an independent agent for some time. I took it upon myself to find her, speak with her, and bring her here," looking from his son to the Shadow, he added, "but you were part of the deal. Don't ask why- she didn't tell me either. I don't know if you made her mad at some point, perhaps got drunk with her, or what, Bossk, but she wished to partner with you."

Bossk glared fiercely at the female for a long while, then to his father, then back to the girl before stating, "No chance!"

Cradossk sighed. Shaking his head, he waved a hand in the air and began to walk away. "I'll leave you two alone to deal with this. Oh, and Bossk," he stopped only to spare a sidelong glance at him, "be sure to meet with me when you're through. We must speak of our new brother in the Guild."

Bossk hissed softly. The last thing he wanted to do was hear more of his father's lame speeches of brotherhood and unity, _especially_ with Fett involved. Turning to look back at the girl, he figured he might as well talk to her long enough to stall that conversation.

"Who are you?" Bossk asked crossing his arms over his chest. Rather than answering, the other hunter began walking closer to him… too close for comfort. He swore he felt his scales bristle. His muscles tightening in tension and his hand falling to the blaster pistol at his hip, Bossk began again, "Look, I don't know who the heck you are, but don't you come one step closer to me you little _jetar madle-" _

Just as he began to pull the blaster free from its holster and aim, the Shadow made her move. Swiftly, she grabbed his wrist made him drop his weapon, the pistol clattering to the floor, and twisted his arm back behind his head. A shiny, ironically delicate looking knife found a spot at his neck to rest against. His eyes widened in shock. She had done it so fast!

Leaning her helmeted head close to his ear canal, she spoke for the first time in a seductive whisper that could've freezed the blood in one's veins to ice, "You don't remember me?"

Growling, he looked back at her with fire in his eyes, "I already told you no, you psychotic spawn of a skank! Now let go of me before I decide to bleed you dry the minute I get my claws on you."

Ignoring him, she stated, "I remember you, Bossk." His name, spoken by her, seemed to come so natural and so terrifying all at once, but he tried not to let it get to him. The knife pressed a little harder against his throat, but not enough to cut. It then began traveling up and to the back of his head, "Perhaps I need to refresh your memory."

Bossk waited to the blow, waited for the last possible moment, the perfect moment, to break free from the female's hold, take the blade from her hands, and gut her with her own knife. But the strike never came. Instead, there was an odd sound- somewhat a mix of a crack, a pop, and a hiss- coming from behind him.

And a pair of warm, full lips pecked his neck.

The anger swiftly being replaced with confusion, Bossk turned around, looking into the now unmasked face of a human female with dark hair. _No, not human, _some part of him corrected, _Rigossan. _But where had that come from? And then the girl smiled.

"Tyra?" he shouted loud enough to wake the dead. When the girl laughed, that was as good as a yes to him. Still bewildered, he gaped at her. Her Basic had turned out much better than before, when her sentences were choppy and poor. Now, with a unique and lusty voice to match, no one would've ever guessed of her primitive culture. And by the Scorekeeper, she had grown! No longer was she that little girl that looked frail enough to snap in two, but a woman with well-built muscles, a curved figure, and confidence that matched her independent nature. One look was all it took to tell that she had matured from a naïve child to someone who could take on the galaxy by storm. It stunned him to see such change in her.

To be brutally honest, he had thought she was dead, like most of the other Force-users in the galaxy. The newly made Empire had hunted down and practically wiped them all out. He should've known- he had hunted a few himself for bounties. When he had heard on the holonet that the Maliki had been attacked, there had been a surprisingly guilty feeling in his gut- as if by taking her to them, he had actually written out her death sentence himself. But now…

"I promised you we'd meet again," she said.

Tyra was alive. And she was here.

Right in the midst of people who would kill her on sight if they ever found out about her past.

Surprise, relief, and annoyance swept over him at once. Bopping her against the head, he exclaimed in a softer voice, "You idiot! What possessed you to come here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"So much for a fond reunion," she mumbled. Seeing his snarl, she added, "Relax, no one's going to find out anything. After years of sneaking around the boys in white, believe me, I know what I'm doing."

"What are you doing here?" he insisted.

She shrugged, "When Cradossk asked me to join the Guild, I figured it'd be a good way to hide under the Imperials' noses and," she looked him in the eyes and smirked, "see how an old friend was doing."

"You're crazy, you know that right?"

"No one ever accused me of being sane."

Huffing, Bossk turned away from her, "If you get yourself into trouble, don't think I'm going to save your skin this time."

"Oh really," Tyra stepped in front of him, her arms behind her back, "I wouldn't be too sure about that."

"What are you blabbering about?"

With a smug look, she replied, "I've been studying up on Trandoshan culture, Bossk. I know about your life debts. That was the only reason you didn't kill me or send me straight to Pekt after Jubili, right?" He didn't hear the well hidden disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah," he said, not liking where this was going, "and I did more than repay it when I healed you on the _Hound _and saved you from Pekt."

"True, but technically it was _your _fault to begin with that I got my chest cut open. I would've killed that Rattataki on my own had you not pulled me off of him and allowed him the chance to swing his sword at me."

…Admittedly, she kind of had a point there. "I still saved you from Pekt."

"Yes, butI _also _saved you from that Demon on Iego."

Bossk opened his mouth to speak, but coming up with nothing else, he hissed at her and said, "I hate you."

"Yeah," she grinned at him, "but you're also stuck with me."


	2. Chapter 2

"So," Tyra said, swinging her legs back and forth after she had plopped down on the end of her creaky bed with a light bounce, "what's our first job?" Her helmet sat off to the side on a plain, somewhat crudely constructed, wooden desk. She had kept it on after their first talk up until they had reached the relative privacy of her quarters, some floors deep below the Guild compound.

"We," Bossk replied, refusing her offer to sit by her and instead sitting on the stone seat built into the wall. He didn't bother taking in the scenery of her barely furnished room; most of them this far below looked exactly the same anyway, "aren't taking any jobs together. I mean it when I say I'm not going to be around to pull you out of some vat of nerf waste when all of this blows in your face. You're on your own this time, whelp."

"Harsh," she flipped herself around so her head and ponytail dangled from the side of the bed, twisting a bit of brown hair in between her fingers, "And here, after all this time, I thought you liked me." She looked at him, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "You have to admit, we did have a few good adventures together. Remember Corellia?"

"I remember throwing you face first into a pile of snow," he said, after a moment of finding that, yes, he did remember their trip to Corellia. He could see her now, her cheeks flushed, grinning like a little child at the twinkling city. "I wouldn't call that a 'great adventure' though. I also remember that you were the one who wouldn't shut up unless I took you there. And the few missions I did take you on after Jubili just had to go wrong in some way or another."

Tyra shrugged, "That only made things fun. Plus, we always got our merchandise in the end."

"I wouldn't exactly call getting surrounded by armed thugs who wanted to nail our skins to the wall fun."

"Really?" she faked surprise, "You seemed to be having a good time showing them otherwise."

After another moment of thought, he looked to the walls of the room with suspicion, eying the wooden door as well. "Aren't you even a little worried about being overheard?"

"Nope. Scanned the room, took care of all the recording devices already."

He gave her a small grin of approval, "So you do know better than to trust these barves here."

"Yep. I didn't come here completely blind, Bossk. I do know a few good tricks of the trade."

Good. That meant that they could get to one of the matters on his mind. "How exactly _did_ you make it? From what I here, most of the other Matukai didn't even escape the enclave's destruction." The Matukai were a group of Force-users that focused on using their abilities to enhance their strength and skills in combat. They didn't ally themselves with either the Jedi or the Sith- one of the main reasons why he had left her in their hands.

She was quiet for a minute, as if thinking of what to say, but finally replied, "I was on a training mission offworld with a few of the other students when we caught the call warning us not to come back; that the enclave had been attacked and that the other Matukai were being overrun by the Imps. We were told to try to regroup with the survivors on Taris, but the boys in white must've gotten the transmission somehow. By the time we got there, everyone else was already dead and a dozen squads were waiting for us in their place. Two of the others got shot from behind. The last three of us took off into the jungles. By the end of just one week, I was the only one left. I found a city and took the first shuttle I could off that rock and went into hiding for a few years before they finally believed the last of the Matukai were gone."

Bossk took in the details of her story, he nearly sneered when she told him she had fled and hid like a coward, but thinking about it, he supposed there was much else she could do. Every Stormtrooper and bounty hunter in the galaxy would've taken the chance to kill her as soon as they had spotted her. That leaved one, mind-boggling question; why come here under such risk? "What did you do all that time?" he asked instead.

"Studied," Tyra put simply, "I did get one chance to scrounge around the rubble of the enclave and found a few texts. I wasn't about to throw away everything I had learned just because of the Empire. And if I am the only one left, somebody's got to preserve our ways."

"Why didn't you join the Rebel Alliance?" That would've seemed like the most likely thing she would've done at the time.

"Sure. And why don't I just put a blaster to my skull and pull the trigger while I'm at it?" she asked, mimicking his tone. "Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against the rebels and I certainly have no love for the Empire, but do you really see me becoming some rank-and-file soldier, lying in wait to make the next strike? I'll fight for freedom alright, but if I do, I'm doing it in my own way. Besides, that would be one of the first places the boys in white would look for me."

Finally, he let the question out, "Why come here?"

"I think I've already answered that."

"Not really," Bossk glowered. He wouldn't let her evade this, "Come on, even you must know that you made a stupid move coming here, but you wouldn't have come without your reasons."

Feeling the blood rush to her head, she got back up and rolled over on her stomach. "I made a promise a long time ago," she rested a cheek against the palm of one hand, "to a friend."

"A friend?" he snorted, "You're not going to find any friends here, Tyra."

She huffed, reaching over for her pillow and throwing it his way, "I was talking about you, you knucklehead."

Growling in irritation, Bossk threw the pillow back at her with twice the force, but only caused her to laugh when it struck her shoulder. "We're not friends."

"Then why haven't you tried to kill me already?" Tyra gave him a sly smile.

He froze in silence. She had a point there. By all reasoning and under normal circumstances, he would've slaughtered her without mercy in order to collect whatever bounty was placed on her head. Even already knowing her, he would've typically just taunted her before killing her. She was being a little unfair about using a life debt against him; he would've considered it repaid and after all these years felt nothing of betrayal. He had spared her from one bounty, what kind of hunter would he be to let her off the hook of another? And yet he still hadn't put a claw on her. Shaking his head and avoiding her question, Bossk directed the subject away from that, "You've changed."

She smiled at him, "I think we both have in some ways. However, there are also some things that haven't changed."

He didn't want to go into what those things were, so he didn't take her bait. "You've have a few days to think about all of this, so you have a few jobs you have in mind to go for, don't you?"

"See, Bossk?" She rose from her bed and, taking a datapad off the desk with her, she sat next to him, unintentionally rubbing one of her legs against his, "If I've changed as much as you think, you wouldn't have guessed that, would you?" She held out the datapad for him to see. Bossk squinted down at the lit screen, thankful that it was dark in her quarters so it wouldn't hurt his super-sensitive eyes. "Seem tempting enough?" she asked as he read.

He found himself grinning the more information he took in about the job. Two Imperial diplomats were apparently at odds with each other, each one wanting to gain a higher status in Emperor Palpatine's court. One of them had posted a deliciously high bounty on the other in return for taking the other's life. At first, Bossk wondered why Tyra would've wanted to take this job, unable to see her as one that would kill in cold blood. Then he read further and found this particular piece of merchandise had a record of trafficking, marking himself as the kind of man she wouldn't be able to stand. "How'd you get ahold of this information?" It would've take some doing for the client to search for a bounty hunter without announcing their intentions to the galaxy.

"I have my ways," she replied smugly, "I am known as the Shadow, you know, and shadows are perfect for sneaking around and finding out what they want, amongst other things."

"Alright then, _Shadow_," he said as he took his turn to annoy her, giving her a nookie, "then what do you think we should do to collect our merchandise? They'll be plenty of security guarding his apartment and I don't think he'll come out in public. These fools hardly ever do."

"Already thought of that," Tyra's smile returned, "We're going on a date!"

Bossk's eyes widened and as he swallowed those words. She had done something not even his father had succeeded in yet; she had left him speechless. _A… date? _Trandoshans didn't date, at least he had never known any that did, but he understood the concept. Regaining composure and replacing his stunned expression to one of displeasure, he replied, "You can't be serious! There's no way that's going to happen!"

"Don't be so dramatic; a simple no would've been just fine," she scowled up at him, "At least _pretend_ that you can tolerate me for a little while. It wouldn't be a real date anyway, and I don't see it playing off well if you _did_ have to act like you were into me." She searched through her files of information until she had pulled up another one to show him, "The dude's hosting a ball in the Emperor's honor on Naboo- probably trying to suck up to him. Not like Palpatine's gonna actually show, of course, but plenty of people are gonna be there. It'll be a good chance to make a go for him.

"I'll pretend to be a member of one of the wealthier families on Naboo. You'll pretend to be my bodyguard. I've got a contact that'll help us figure out the details."

Bossk's eyes narrowed at her, "So I'm supposed to act as your lackey."

"Would you rather act as my lover?"

He gave it some thought, "Fine. Lackey it is."

"We've got some time until then to prepare for the job. Let's be honest here; I doubt either of us have what it takes to act like regal, preppy socialites, so we'll need to learn. I doubt anyone else will have a chance to make a grab for him until then."

Bossk nodded, "When do we speak to your contact?"

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head, "We're not done making a deal yet. Fifty-fifty seems fair to me."

She really wanted to bargain here? "Sixty-forty; we're taking my ship and you're going to help pay for fueling costs."

Tyra wouldn't budge, "I'm already paying the contact," she retorted, "And I've got all the info you need for the job. I doubt you'll find anyone else who even knows about the job, much less the specifics."

This was a change he didn't like to see in her; she had become a woman of business. "Alright," he grated stubbornly through clenched teeth, "Deal."

Her smile returned, "So we're partners then." Without warning, she clasped one of his hands and shook it firmly.

The next day, they left the Bounty Hunter's Guild behind them to travel to the Hutt-controlled planet of Nar Shaddaa. For reasons unknown to him, she changed out of her typical hunter's garb and into something a little more comfortable after they had entered hyperspace, leaving her mask and most of her tools of the trade onboard. Rather than heading towards the large cities, Tyra directed him to the low-profit, filthy and muck-filled refugee sector. As he changed course, Bossk recalled what was so familiar about all of this.

This was where he had captured Tyra for a bounty before the events on Jubili. The coincidence took effect on him, and he considered for a moment that she might be planning a poetic revenge against him. Bossk's hand drifted dangerously close to the blaster at his side. What stopped him from pulling it out was the reminder that Tyra might not actually be lying and that he needed her and her contact for the job, if their truly was one. Still, he kept a sharp eye on her.

When they finally landed, she began leading him through the muddy streets. Bossk took in their surroundings with little interest; not much had changed since the last time he had been there all those years ago. Seeing the Trandoshan, most citizens gave them a wide girth. The only people who didn't get out of their path were the intoxicated fools the blundered about on wobbly, unbalanced legs.

"Well, here we are," Tyra said as they stopped in front of a large building with a roof that looked like it would collapse if a sudden wind were to whip at it. Some of the neon lights on the sign in front were shot and others blinked off and on, fading. Had it not been for the noise inside, the place would've seemed abandoned.

As they stepped up onto the porch and the door zipped open, the smells of alcohol, food, and a mix of other creatures from varying species grew stronger to Bossk. "You're contact stays here?"

"It's his summer home," she joked.

"Tyra!" a gruff voice chuckled inside. A scruffy human male, scarred at the neck, with wrinkles near his green eyes and white streaks running through his short, dark hair approached her, "How ya doin' kid? Been a while." When the man caught sight of Bossk, he turned pale, "Kid, get behind me, now!" He yanked Tyra by the wrist and pulled her away; brandishing a blaster and the same moment Bossk swung his rifle into his waiting grasp. "Amelie! Alva!"

Two women equally as aged, a Zabrak and a Twi'lek, turned their attention to the ruckus and took out blasters as well. Each was covered in burn scars, although most remained unseen underneath their clothing. The other patrons split into two groups; one fleeing from the scene and the other resting hands upon their own respected weapons, waiting to see what would happen.

Now Bossk remembered; these were the same people who had tried to protect Tyra when he came here to find her. He didn't know how they survived an explosion from a thermal detonator, but he would make sure that this time, they would _stay _dead.

"Stop!" Tyra barked, freeing herself from Ismail's grasp and grasping everyone's attention. Placing herself in between the two males, she gestured for both of them to put their weapons away. The pair lowered their guns, but kept their fingers on the triggers. Giving Amelie and Alva a look, she got the two of them to put their weapons away. Slowly, most of the attention they had gathered vanished as things turned somewhat normal. With a sigh, she looked at them. "You both are already acquainted. Ismail, this is my partner, Bossk. He'll be working with me on this job. Bossk, meet my contact." Trandoshan and human gave each other stern, distrustful looks. "Perhaps we should take a seat. Alva, three beers on me! The usual, please!" The Twi'lek grinned and nodded.

As the three took a seat in one of the booths, with Tyra sitting beside Bossk and across from Ismail, a Cathar female came over with their drinks. The Twi'lek that used to act as a waitress when Tyra was younger, Mimi, had died in the blast, unable to find proper cover before the bomb went off. Tyra gave the waitress the credits and took a sip of the drink. She didn't favor the taste of beer all too much compared to other beverages, but it would give her the fire in her gut she would need to make sure that chaos didn't break loose as it almost had between Bossk and her companions.

Looking to Bossk, she lifted her drink a bit and said, "This is your fault. You made a bad influence on me on Iego and got me drinking," turning her attention to Ismail, she continued, "I know this doesn't look good, but it's a long story. You've got to trust me here, and," she pointed at them both, "you two need to play nice for a little while. Afterwards, you can act like neither of you existed to the other, got it?"

After a short stare down, both nodded in assent. Ismail was the first to speak, "We've already agreed on the price, kid. You've got the credits?" A small beep on the datachip clipped to his side answered for her. Pulling it off and seeing that the transfer had gone through, he then took out a folder and tossed it across the table to Tyra. "Alright then. This should have all the information you need to bypass any security you run into while on Naboo.

Tyra opened up the folder, examining its contents, as he continued, "You're now Lasiandra De'rouge; niece of Selmer De'rouge and heir to the vineyards east of the capital. Your father is one of the Queen's advisers, but is currently offworld on business."

She smirked, "I suppose this means I'll be required to bring wine as a gift?"

"Probably," Ismail kicked his feet up on the table, "Small price though, considering who you're after."

"And Bossk?"

"Rorrick Chambers; captain of the guards."

Tyra looked over to her Doshan partner, "Well?"

"Captain, huh?" he shrugged, "Not bad, I guess. But after this, I'll want a promotion."


End file.
